


花言葉 (Hanakotoba)

by Himmelreich



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: (not really) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M, blame meguri_aite for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3569261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time that person walks into their shop shortly after noon on a cloudy day in late September, Inaho just happens to be the one behind the counter.</p><p>  <i>Shinawara Flower Shop is the place to go for quality flower arrangements, and then some. Knowledge is power in this business, and ignorance is bliss but will not protect you. This in mind, Inaho plays a game of solitaire waiting for his new customer to realise what exactly he places his orders for, and wonders just what will happen to them once he eventually does.<i></i></i><br/>OR: Aldnoah.Zero Flowershop AU gone wrong as requested by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/pseuds/meguri_aite">a certain someone</a> Now even with a quality illustration by <a href="http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/115242770533/izumisays-in-the-spirit-of-taking-responsibility">the person responsible</a>.</p><p>EDIT: Now available <a href="songoftruth.lofter.com/post/38ae48_6b6e54e">in Chinese</a> as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 椿 (Tsubaki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White camellias mean _waiting_ , yellow camellias speak of _longing_.

The first time that person walks into their shop shortly after noon on a cloudy day in late September, Inaho just happens to be the one behind the counter. He had noticed the other a few minutes before from the corner of his eyes when he had arrived in front of the glass windows, walked up to the door, then turned around on his heels as if he had remembered something, only to circle back moments later, check the name of the store again, and finally entering the shop. Now crossing the threshold, the person looks around the room and displayed flower arrangements self-consciously, and Inaho decides to take mercy on him.

The way the customer acts, he is almost sure that the stranger did not just a randomly happen to drop by for some flowers, and he had seen quite a lot of that type being confused as how to act when it came to actually placing their orders.

„Welcome to the Shinawara Flower Shop, what can I do for you?“ he greets in what he hopes passes for a warm and welcoming tone, for his standards, that is, without sounding too fake.  
The other startles as if he was surprised to actually be talked to, and then walks up to the counter in a few hurried steps. Inaho regards him with mild interest. He is a young man probably about his age, slightly taller than him, with messy blond hair and a pale complexion that betrays his being easily flustered. His suit looks fairly expensive and is well tailored, though the crumpled shirt and the loosened tie speak volumes of the fact that he is the kind of employee that gets to run around all day rather than spend his day sitting behind a shiny desk in an air-conditioned office room. His hands clutch a slip of paper as if his life depended on it. Well, for all Inaho knows, it might, for more reasons than one.

„Uuh, I need a-“, the man starts, self-conscious under Inaho‘s fixed gaze as he has to consult the words written down on the paper, „bouquet fit for a young woman‘s birthday reception, about forty centimetres diameter, main colours white or... yellow-ish? Would that be possible, please?“  
At that, he raises his eyes again to meet Inaho‘s, his entire body language expressing concern and worry. Inaho, in turn, feels his eyebrows raise at the order.

„A bouquet with mainly white and yellow, otherwise non-specified flowers? That is all?“ he repeats slowly, wondering if his previous assessment had been majorly wrong or if the other one had simply messed up in what obviously had been his first order at their store.  
There is a beat of silence, then the other‘s eyes dart back to the slip of paper, then back to Inaho.  
„Uhm, yes? That would be all...? As soon as possible if it‘s no trouble to you, please?“

His face betrays nothing but lack of understanding and eagerness to get this order done. So his assessment really had been way off, Inaho muses as he takes the writing pad with the order questionnaire out of the top drawer and jots down the instructions for his sister and the girls. Well, he does not mind either way, because their bank account does not differentiate between the money of these customers and the others‘, and he knows for a fact that Nina is always happy when she gets to do a normal arrangement for a change.

„Your name?“ he asks without looking up.  
„Troyard“, the man replies, and Inaho hesitates a second, tip of the pen hovering above the paper, before he decides to write it in Romaji. Then, he rips off the upper layer and hands the carbon across the counter.  
„It‘s no trouble at all. Come back in about two hours, I can‘t promise it will be done much faster than that, my apologies.“  
„Oh, no, that‘s perfectly alright!“

Troyard practically sighs this reply in relief, taking the carbon with both hands, careful not to touch Inaho‘s fingers, and almost bows, out of habit, no question, before obviously growing aware of his position as the customer and straightening his back awkwardly.  
„I‘ll be back in two hours, then, thank you very much“, he says, carefully putting the slips of paper into his breast pocket, and then turns to leave as fast as common courtesy allows, the bell ringing as he opens the door. Inaho is already on his way to the back of the shop to inform his sister, when he hears the other‘s voice again, so soft it is almost inaudible.  
„Please give it your all for this present.“  
Inaho is not sure if his perplexed „Of course“ still reaches the other man‘s ears as the door already falls closed with a second ring that echoes in the empty shop.

 

Inaho is still on duty when the man returns, punctual to the minute.  
„Welcome back“, he greets and retrieves the bouquet out of vase beneath the counter. Troyard takes a moment to regard it through the transparent plastic wrap, and Inaho in turn watches the other‘s reactions carefully.  
„It really turned out beautifully“, he finally says, his voice soft, and reaches out as if wanting to touch the white petals, but stops short and draws his hand back as if burned.

„I‘m glad you like it“, Inaho responds, taking mental note to relay this compliment to Yuki and Inko.  
„How much do I owe you?“ Troyard asks, finally taking his eyes of the flowers.  
„5000 Yen.“  
„I hope it is alright with you if I pay by card?“ Troyard asks and tentatively holds out a dark red piece of plastic with gold print which Inaho accepts with a nod, readying the needed machinery. The business logo on the upper corner is oddly familiar, but it takes a moment before he remembers.

The Orbital Knights Corporation, Inaho knows that name from the older account books that his predecessors of the shop had left to him. There had been no orders from these people in a long time, though, but as far as the records went, there had never been trouble with them, either, so it probably is a sign of a good new business streak - for the shop, that is. Though, with the order being as it is, it might just have been coincidence, too.

„For statistics‘ sake, do you mind telling me how you found this shop?“, he asks, watching the other closely.  
„One of my seniors at work mentioned it once, and it was close by“, Troyard readily answers, taking back the credit card and carefully picking up the wrapped bouquet.  
„I see. Thank you very much for your purchase, please come again soon.“

Inaho bows slightly as the other man takes his leave with a final smile directed at him. He thinks to himself that the chances of that certain company resuming their business with this shop are about fifty-fifty, so the same would probably go for that fair haired customer. It was one more bet with himself to kill time with, and he would soon see how it would play out soon, of that he is sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some time ago last year, meguri_aite and I joked about how, if one was to receive a prompt that asked for a Flowershop AU in Yuletide, you should simply put a darker spin on it, including gratuitous gore and blades hidden in bouquets and all sorts of sinister shenanigans, because the rules do not explicitly forbid you to do whatever you want with that setting. Ever since, I thought running along with this idea might be lots of fun, actually, so here goes the first and last take on Flowershop AUs I‘ll ever do, for my current favourite fandom that is equally made of pretty things and bloodshed, dedicated to my dear deer. Please note that this entire story was planned out after season one had aired (before Count Saazbaum Troyard revealed himself to be a florist at heart, too), only I never got to finish it because of university work. As a result, though, it mostly refers to events from the first half of the show.


	2. 黄菊 (Kigiku)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _„Welcome to the Shinawara Flower Shop, what can I do for you?“, he automatically reels off his usual greeting, half annoyed at having to quit his mental account of what new additions to his armoury he would have to try to talk out of his superiors, half hesitatingly delighted by the possible unexpected change of pace. Switching off the screen he looks up, and finds himself looking at a familiar face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chrysanthemum stands for _power_ and _nobility_.

October had come and spread its prominent colours even inside the shop, as Yuki insisted that even if they were not an average flower shop, they should nevertheless keep up with the general trends and customer demands, if only for show and the three, four weekly stray civilian customers. In fact, she had probably decided on it mainly because Nina and Inko enjoyed this change of pace from dispatching to decorating, but that argument would not pull through with their boss, so it remained unspoken.

In any case, on this Thursday noon, Inaho finds himself surrounded by more orange plastic maple leaves and pumpkins that he personally considers sane and safe. Well, it is more bearable than Christmas or, gods forbid, Valentine decorations, but during any and all of these special occasions, he still prefers to work in the field rather than behind the counter even more than usual, but since Calm had called in ill, there had been no way around it.

There had been a lack of interesting requests lately, and from what he knows, there is no major feud between the more powerful factions of the city going on, either, so he had settled into sitting behind the counter with his PDA, going through newly purchased weapon manuals and performance data, mentally preparing for a boring and solitary shift, when suddenly the door bell rings.

„Welcome to the Shinawara Flower Shop, what can I do for you?“, he automatically reels off his usual greeting, half annoyed at having to quit his mental account of what new additions to his armoury he would have to try and talk out of his superiors, half hesitatingly delighted by the possible unexpected change of pace. Switching off the screen he looks up, and finds himself looking at a familiar face.  
„Good day to you, too“, Troyard offers with a smile, crossing over to the counter with more confidence this time.  
„Welcome back it is, then“, Inaho corrects himself, calmly trying to assess the other‘s state a bit more clearly. He still does not seem like someone who would drop by the shop for their actual business, but then again, sometimes it was hard to tell at first glance. „What can I do for you today?“

„Today, I‘m actually here on official business from my company“, his customer readily tells him, and Inaho feels himself grow fully alert instantly. He remembers the logo on the credit card well, and as soon as his shift back on that day of September had ended, he had gone through the old accounts again. Just as he had remembered, the Orbital Knights had been involved in a rather nasty affair that had required a lot of clean-up at the hands of the shop‘s predecessors more than a decade in the past. While they had made an almost frivolous amount of money back in the day from this job, they had also lost multiple operatives, and Inaho wonders that if anything of that disaster level was about to happen again, it was a wise idea to re-engage in business with that corporation in the first place. Sadly, in their line of work, being picky is not exactly an option.

„I see“, he says instead of voicing any of his thoughts, hoping that nothing of them had translated to his facial expression. „You did mention that someone at your workplace recommended us, after all.“  
Troyard nods.  
„Yes, and the bouquet you did for Asseylum-san‘s birthday reception received quite some praise, too, so thank you again for that.“  
„We‘re always glad when customers and the ones receiving the arrangements are content with them.“  
„Asseylum-san seemed to have loved it“, Troyard goes on, his expression softening, a smile he does not seem aware of spreading on his face.  
„It honours us that even such a high-standing person as Asseylum Vers Allusia approves of our work“, Inaho says, inwardly pitying the other for his obvious crush on someone who was completely out of his reach like that.  
„You know her?“, Troyard asks, perplexed, and Inaho shrugs.

„She‘s quite the famous figure, being heiress to a big corporation such as the Orbital Knights, after all, so if you have any remote interest in the business of this city, you will at least have heard her name once.“  
Especially if you had interest for the shadowy side of business in this city, but Inaho does not add that correction. Instead, he tries to prepare himself to what is inevitably to follow Troyard‘s announcement of being here on official business. He had estimated the chances of it happening fifty-fifty, and here he has the results. 

„So, what exactly is your order today?“  
Troyard nods and hands him an envelope containing a sheet with instructions written on it once more, this time heavy, expensive letter paper from the looks of it, with the corporation logo as a watermark imprinted at the top. The handwriting is different from last time and clearly not the other man‘s, but is neat and decisive, royal blue ink forming innocent appearing words that instantly set Inaho on edge.  
„A chrysanthemum arrangement to commemorate a business meeting, understood“, he echoes, more for himself than his customer. „I‘ll relay it to the staff immediately, again, it might take a while to ready everything, so please come back in about two hours and a half, approximately.“ 

As Troyard assures that it would be no problem to do so and leaves the shop for the meantime, Inaho is already calculating the details of the real request behind this bouquet in his head as he picks up his phone to call the Captain. The contact detail on the letter is not the one of the client, that is obvious, but that of the target, and from just glancing at the name of the street, Inaho can already tell this job would most likely entail a lot of dancing around alarm systems and safety precautions.  
As he listens to dialling tone, jotting down the order for the flowers on the form sheet, he can feel the particular calm excitement welling up in him that is specific to this kind of challenge. The more complicated the layout, the more his skills were actually required, and that is something he more than appreciates after days of sitting behind a counter selling flowers and lies.

 

Again, Troyard is perfectly on time to pick up the order that is only for show, really, already placed in a vase on the counter top.  
„This one, too, looks amazing.“  
There is no fake tone whatsoever to his voice as he regards the bouquet from all sides, and Inaho is now entirely sure that there is no way he knows about what really is going on. Or rather, if he knew, he would have to be the most amazing liar Inaho had ever crossed paths with, and that included after all Rayet who had for more than two years successfully hidden that she was part of one of the most influential families of their world in favour of working with them, without anyone suspecting a thing. But that she had achieved by displaying no emotion whatsoever, and faking them without going overboard and appearing unnatural was way more difficult. And for some reason, the thought that Troyard might be doing it irks Inaho to point of dismissing it entirely. 

„Thank you very much for your continuous praise“, he says, when he suddenly notices Troyard halting in staring at the bouquet and realises that he had forgotten to remove the name tag on the order.  
„What does it mean?“, the other promptly asks, removing the tag and putting it on the counter between them.  
„It‘s a play on homophones, kind of, it can be read as your last name“, Inaho explains a bit uncomfortably upon having been caught, but Troyard just regards the tag with earnest interest.  
„The company I work for is fairly international, so everyone just romanises their name“, he comments and smiles at Inaho. „So I haven‘t had my name transcribed as anything more fancy up until now. Thanks for that.“

Inaho shrugs, inwardly relieved that his customer is not the type to throw tantrums upon bastardisation of his name, as had happened with one particular unlikeable patron of his before. Yuki had warned him to stop this nicknaming and encrypting habit of his, too.  
„Coming up with different ways of writing names or just nicknames in general is one way for me to kill time.“ Or to distract oneself from planning a job while there had still not been an official confirmation from the Captain who would be dispatched this time around.  
Troyard laughs at that.  
„Do your customers bore you that much?“  
„Certainly not all of them“, Inaho replies with a smile, before continuing: „Counter duty is not my favourite task here, and sometimes it can be a bit dreary, so I‘m always glad for some distraction.“ 

„Feel free to come up with more variations of the writing, then, I don‘t mind.“  
„I‘ll remember that for the future, then“, Inaho says, and he knows that he would get the chance to do it, too, because this time, he estimates the chances of this kind of order being relayed to his shop by the Orbital Knights very soon again at around eighty to twenty percent. Once someone deemed it necessary to resort to this kind of measure in what took great care to outwardly appear as a law-abiding and professional corporation, there was no going back, and as soon as these things are set in motion, they usually cause bigger ripples and not just a single incident.

Troyard pays again via credit card, and Inaho hands him the receipt and the bouquet, nothing but a neat cover, but for someone unaware, it is a job well done.  
„Thank you again“, Troyard gives as final parting words with a smile, „and see you again!“  
„We thank you for your patronage“, Inaho says, bowing, and escorts his customer to the door, locking it once he is out of sight and turning the sign to _Closed_.

His real work is only about to begin, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, I shamelessly stole Sawano's way of transcribing Slaine's name here: 十六一碼


	3. 小百合 (Sayuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _„Welcome back, Troyard-san. Sorry for the delay, I‘ll get on your order right away.“_   
>  _„It‘s alright, no need to stress about it“, Troyard assures, bringing his hands up with a smile, before halting, looking at Inaho more closely. „Actually, are you feeling alright? You look exhausted.“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orange Lily means _hatred_ and _revenge_.

The clear and blue skies of October had given way to November‘s grey and dreary weather, and it mirrors Inaho‘s mood perfectly as he crosses the road to the shop‘s entrance, already ten minutes late because of a train delay due to an „accident on the rails“, as they had announced with an apology on the loudspeakers. To someone to whom death was an everyday part of the job, this kind of event was less shocking than just plain bothersome, and Inaho cannot even feel truly bad about it.  
Empathy is not exactly a practical quality to have in his line of work, after all.

„Sorry for being late, Matsuribi-senpai“, he announces as soon as he opens the door, and immediately stops in his tracks when he notices there is a customer in the room along with his colleague already.  
„Yo, Inaho!“, Matsuribi greets him with an enthusiastic wave, already having changed from his apron into his street jacket and obviously happy to have been saved from dealing with another order on overtime, turning back to his customer with an apologetic smile.  
„‘scuse me, my shift is over, so my colleague will take it from here. See ya!“

Inaho holds the door open for his senior as he leaves, and waits until it has fallen shut again before he walks up to and addresses the person at the counter.  
„Welcome back, Troyard-san. Sorry for the delay, I‘ll get on your order right away.“  
„It‘s alright, no need to stress about it“, Troyard assures, bringing his hands up with a smile, before halting, looking at Inaho more closely. „Actually, are you feeling alright? You look exhausted.“

Inaho stops his actions in surprise, apron only half tied as his back, meeting Troyard‘s eyes which clearly mirror concern.  
„I do?“, he asks, genuinely baffled that someone who had only met him twice so far somehow had managed to read him well enough to tell, despite the fact that he prided himself on having all but perfected a blank-slate pokerface to hide fatigue, anger and frustration behind. Troyard obviously is someone very talented at reading people, Inaho thinks, which makes it even more surprising that for some reason he seems unaware of the true nature of this shop.

„A bit“, Troyard reaffirms. „Of course, I didn‘t mean to pry into personal affairs, sorry if I did-“  
„Ah, no, it‘s fine.“ Inaho shakes his head and finally finishes tying up his apron, and then takes out the form sheet for the jotting down the order already. A welcome excuse to keep his eyes anywhere else than on Troyard‘s compassionate blue eyes for a few more moments. „I had a few rougher days, my sister got into a sort of, well, accident, and I had to take care of her.“  
„I‘m very sorry to hear that“, Troyard says, and Inaho does not doubt for a second that he is genuine about it. „I hope it wasn‘t anything too serious?“

„Thankfully, no. She‘ll be back to full health in no time, I‘m sure, she‘s stubborn like that. She‘s already working again, too.“  
„I‘m glad. I wish her a speedy recovery.“  
Inaho looks up again, having run out of things to do, and sees Troyard smile. His customer appears slightly less energetic than the last times, too, but before Inaho can decide on whether or not it would be a good idea to ask him about it or not, given that he already has a very clear-cut suspicion as to why, the other tells him already.

„Seems last week brought bad luck in general, then. A senior in my work department unexpectedly passed away, too.“  
„I‘m sorry for your loss“, Inaho responds automatically, this time trying even harder not have anything show on his face that might have given rise to suspicion. It is not as if he can say _I know_ or _Guess when and where my sister got injured_ , after all. 

„We weren‘t exactly close“, Troyard replies a bit stiffly, and Inaho assumes that from the way he says it, the polar opposite sounds to have been more true to the nature of their relationship. „Still, thank you very much for your sympathy.“  
As Inaho just nods, Troyard produces a new envelope from his pocket again and places it on the counter top.

„Again on official business, then, I see“, Inaho comments, opening it and reading through the new instructions carefully. If last time‘s letter had set him on edge, this one sets his nerves on fire, and he can feel his pulse accelerating.  
„Yes. The corporation‘s founder is visiting the main office next week, and they want to go all out with decorations from what I understand.“  
„Looks like it, that's quite the order.“ Inaho carefully folds the letter back up and puts it back into the envelope. With such a delicate matter, it was best to consult his bosses about in person, so he would leave for their office as soon as the formalities here were dealt with.

„We‘ll see to the arrangements being done on due date and sent over to your main office“, he explains, filling in the form. „The bill will be sent right to your boss in this case, so you don‘t have to bother with it.“  
„I see.“  
Troyard is leaning a bit closer in to read along his writing, Inaho notices suddenly as he looks up, and there is a small crease between his brows.  
„Something wrong with this?“

„Oh, not at all“, Slaine says, shaking his head and leaning away quickly. „Sorry, I was just wondering what type of flower that even is on this request. I don‘t think I‘ve heard of it yet - Kouyuri, is it?“  
„It‘s read as Sayuri, a type of lily“, Inaho explains, putting down his pen and walking over to one of the shelves to retrieve an arrangement that one of the girls must have done for practice earlier and places it on the counter for his customer to look at. 

„I think I‘ve never seen this type of flower in this colour before, no“, Troyard says and leans in closer to regard them in detail.  
„They are rarely used compared to their white and pinkish relatives, yes“, Inaho agrees, carefully watching the other man. „Say, are you familiar with the concept of flower language, Troyard-san?“  
„Only the very basics, like red roses meaning love and passion, that sort of thing“, Troyard replies a bit sheepishly. „Plus, I think the meaning of flowers is often a bit different in the European and in the Japanese tradition, not to mention the flowers unique to each part of the earth of course complicate matters.“

„Judging by your name, you‘re from Scandinavia, right?“, Inaho asks, genuinely interested.  
„Originally, yes, but I have lived in Japan for the longer part of my life. My father came here for work related reasons, but died when I was still young. Ever since, I‘ve been taken care of by a colleague of his as my guardian, who also helped me find a job in his firm after graduation.“  
Judging by Troyard‘s facial expression, it had been a hard time growing up like this, even though he tries to downplay it with a smile. Inaho decides that any more questions regarding the other‘s personal life would probably be overstepping boundaries, and is saved from still giving into his curiosity when Slaine loops back to their initial topic of conversation: „Why did you ask me about the flowers, though?“

Inaho considers his answer for a moment. There is no way he can explicitly tell Troyard what the problem with the requested flower‘s meaning is without him breaching this shop‘s protocol of not clueing in outsiders. All he can do is opt for a hint vague enough to be justifiable as general smalltalk while also being clear enough to have Troyard hopefully pick up on it, observant person that he seems to be.  
„It‘s just that the use of flower language has a long tradition in conveying messages here“, he starts with a shrug, „for example, in the Heian period nobles used to attach flowers to their letters in order to add another layer of meaning to them, which could even affect the written content as a sort of code.“

„You sure are very knowledgeable about these things.“  
Troyard looks impressed, and while that is flattering, it is not the reaction Inaho had hoped for, yet he fears that any more open allusions might already be too much.  
„Comes with the job“, Inaho says dismissively before continuing lying through his teeth: „I‘m not sure if it‘s still common to do that sort of thing nowadays, though, I was just wondering out of mere curiosity.“

„Understandable with how often I‘m sent to pick up flowers here recently“, Troyard laughs quietly, and Inaho curses himself at his next words. „I‘m really not familiar with this system of flower language, though, and judging by how much the people of this corporation invest in rather old-fashioned no-nonsense splendour, I think they mainly use flowers as a general way of showing off. I told you it‘s an international accumulation of people, so one unified code would be hard to pull off, most likely.“  
„You‘re probably right“, Inaho sighs in defeat, inwardly simply hoping that either, against his better judgement, there would be no follow-up to this order, or that someone else but Troyard might get tasked with these errands at some point.

„Thank you, though, it was interesting to hear about it, maybe you can tell me more about it some other time.“  
Troyard smiles at him and Inaho can only nod. He cannot even explain why he feels such an urge to clue the other in on something that probably he would be better off not knowing, and he is not quite sure whether he even wants to know.  
„Sure“, he replies as he hands his customer the carbon of the order for his boss to keep.

As he watches Troyard leave the shop with a last wave directed at him, Inaho really wonders when he had started to care about what happened to unfortunate messengers in this sort of business. It definitely is not a healthy new concern to focus his attention on, but still, he cannot help but feel uneasy about the whole direction the other man‘s involvement had taken ever since the Orbital Knights‘ reappearance on this shop‘s clientele list.  
Especially with today‘s order, the fulfilment of which is sure to topple the whole corporation into chaos.


	4. 彼岸花 (Higanbana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It is on a gloomy day that had brought nothing but heavy downpour nonstop ever since the early morning hours that Troyard practically falls into the shop along with the door at the usual time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Spider Lily stands for _abandonment_ and _death_.

It is on a gloomy day that had brought nothing but heavy downpour nonstop ever since the early morning hours that Troyard practically falls into the shop along with the door at the usual time. He looks miserable, drenched from head to toe, his usually fair hair now a muddy brownish colour and plastered to his face, the dark blue cloth of his suit tinted black from the shoulders to the front of his trousers, and as he makes his way to the counter, he leaves a trail of water droplets all over the floor, as Inaho notices. Apparently, Troyard realises it the very same moment, turning his head to follow Inaho‘s gaze, then back to facing him, immediately dropping into an overly formal bow.

„Please excuse the mess, I‘m terribly sorry.“  
„Don‘t worry about that“, Inaho waves him off, as usual both impressed and slightly alienated by the impeccable manners of his new regular. He automatically reaches for the top drawer to retrieve the notepad, but stops with the hand above the handle as the other lifts his head again, blinking as the water runs steadily from his hair over his face like overly dramatic teardrops.   
„Actually... are you in much of a hurry today, Troyard-san?“  
The other stares at him for a moment, obviously confused by this sudden change of their ordering routine, then gives a noncommittal shrug.

„I need the order until this late afternoon, unless you are already booked out for the day and that would cause you trouble, if that‘s what you mean?“  
„No, that‘s not it“, Inaho replies, and wonders if it really had been the right idea to run with this sudden intuition. Maybe all he would achieve with it is making the other man uncomfortable, but now that he had already started on this line of thought, he would see it through.  
„You are on lunch break right now as usual, right? So you should have about an hour left, assuming you get about one hour of break.“  
„Yes, I mean I- how did you know?“  
There is open confusion on Troyard‘s face, mingled with the smallest dash of suspicion, maybe.

„Well, you always drop by around noon, and the orders are obviously not for your personal use, so it was easy to figure out you do them as an errand for your boss during your break“, Inaho explains with a shrug. It really had not been that difficult to realise, especially as his job came with having to observe people and their patterns carefully, but there is no way he can explain that to the other in detail. „Am I right?“  
„It‘s true.“ Troyard nods, water dripping with the movement, some small drops making it to the edge of the polished counter surface even.  
„Good“, Inaho states and steps back towards the curtain separating the front room from the workplace and office in the back. „Please follow me, then.“

Troyard opens his mouth as if to protest, but then follows him around the counter and through the open doorway all the way past the first room of tables littered with flowers and the normal working utensils - the more special equipment is always kept securely locked away, Inaho sees to that himself - into the small office that also serves as the staff room, harbouring a desk and file cabinets as well as a small kitchen and an old, worn-down couch. Troyard stays standing in the middle of the room, apparently unsure how to proceed, while Inaho rummages the kitchen cupboard for all the sparse towels he can find, before turning back to hand them to his customer. 

„It‘s not much, but it should take care of the worst. Sadly, we don‘t have a drier here, so all I can offer to you is hanging your jacket over the heater until you have leave“, he explains as he turns to the kitchen again to switch on the kettle and ready the tea pot.  
„You really don‘t have to do this“, Troyard protests weakly, voice muffled by the layers of towels he is rubbing his hair dry with.  
„I don‘t mind“, Inaho replies, earnestly, and picks up the wool blanket lying nicely folded on the couch. „Take that for the time being, I fear we don‘t keep changes of clothes around here.“

Troyard carefully spreads out the now wet towels on the drying rack and hangs his jacket over the heater as instructed, then turns back to Inaho and takes the blanket with a small bow and the most honest and sincerely grateful smile that Inaho has seen in ages.   
„Thank you very much, you are too kind.“  
Inaho is honestly at a loss at what to say, having already stated that he does not mind, and not quite sure why he had followed this sudden notion of inviting this person to stay in the first place, but is saved by the bell in form of the kettle whistling.  
„Please be seated“, he offers instead of repeating his words and goes back to deal with the tea. 

When they are both sitting with their steaming cups in front of them, there is a moment of silence only disrupted by the constant beat of rain against the window, then Inaho stretches out his hand across the table, only to be met by yet another completely confused look from the other man.  
„Today‘s order“, he clarifies, and Troyard jolts and hurriedly produces the slip of paper from his wallet this time, where it had remained dry and safe, before handing it over. It is the same pristine handwriting as the times before, and Inaho had honestly expected it after that last order, yet reading the information still sets off that strange rush of adrenaline that comes with every one of these special requests. 

„I see“, he finally replies, aware that Troyard had watched him from across the table carefully this entire time. „This is a special order, were you told?“  
Troyard shakes his head, and Inaho does not doubt for a second that he is honest about his ignorance.  
„It will require some more preparation time, as it is composed of component we have to order first.“  
„So you won‘t be able to finish it on time?“

„That‘s not it“, Inaho explains and leans back in his chair a little, watching the other. Troyard is listening with earnest interest and looks so entirely harmless that Inaho really has to wonder how he wound up working for people that requested orders like those as frequently as he had witnessed now. Well, probably about the same way everyone else had ended up in this sort of life, he thinks with a pang of bitterness. He remembers what Troyard had told him about his father, and wonders whether for him, too, it had been family that had introduced him to this world, or if his father had managed to completely shield him from his actions, leaving him unaware of the true, most likely ugly nature of his business. 

Inaho shakes his head slightly to help him focus on the task at hand again. There is no use in wondering about the state of the world, after all, and the less he intrigues Troyard about the matter, the better it probably is for the other‘s health and sanity.  
„Since it will take until after normal business hours, we will see to the delivery ourselves, so you don‘t have to concern yourself with it today. The address was included on the paper you just gave me, after all.“  
„I didn‘t even realise“, Troyard says, eyebrows furrowed. „I‘m sorry this request is causing you an extra amount of work.“  
„Don‘t be“, Inaho replies, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. „It‘s our job after all, don‘t concern yourself with it.“   
He carefully folds the order back up and puts into the breast pocket of his shirt. He would have to call the Captain about this order as soon as Troyard had left.

There is another stretched out silence, then Troyard tries to steer the conversation to less tense matters.  
„You said you kept no spare clothes around here, so you don‘t live upstairs or something?“  
„Ah, no, the rooms upstairs are not connected to the shop and rented out to people uninvolved“, Inaho readily answers, glad about the change of topic.  
„Somehow I‘ve always assumed all shop keepers lived above their shops. Silly, now that I think about it.“ Troyard gives him a self-conscious but warm smile.  
„It‘s not that silly, really. It‘s just that all of us current employees live somewhere else, and this shop has had a lot of different personnel working here in the past, so it never had these long term connections.“

„So, since you don‘t like counter duty all that much, do you actually do flower arrangements yourself?“  
Inaho feels the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.  
„No, I‘m no good at that sort of thing, really.“ He is extraordinarily good at other parts of this specific job, but that is nothing he can tell Troyard. „Thankfully, I have very skilled co-workers.“  
„That you do, all of the arrangements I have bought here so far were absolutely stunning“, Troyard agrees, and there is nothing but sincerity in his eyes. They fall back into a comfortable silence this time, drinking their tea and listening to the fall of the rain outside, neither sure how to talk to the other without overstepping unstated boundaries, instead settling on a safe common ground. 

He might be ignorant of the specifics, Inaho thinks, but the other man definitely is able to pick up on the general atmosphere. If anything, that person seems to be the type that is quick on the uptake, so the only thing stopping him from realising what was truly going on was probably the sheer incredibility of the existence of a company such as this.

Finally, Troyard sets down the empty cup and checks his watch.   
„I should be going, then“, he starts with a sigh. „Though of course paying comes first“, he adds hurriedly, as if afraid that Inaho might take instant action against an uncooperating customer.  
Inaho simply nods and and cleans up the table while Troyard retrieves his slightly drier jacket from the heater, then they both head back to the actual shop. Inaho takes great care that the other does not see the amount of money he draws from the credit card, but thankfully, Troyard is gazing out the window at the relentless rain pouring down. 

Before handing the card back, Inaho bends down to pick up his own umbrella he had brought into the shop this morning from the floor beneath the counter, holding both items out to Troyard.   
„I trust you will drop by sometime again, so you can have it in the meantime.“  
For a few moments, each of which is too long for Inaho‘s sense of comfort, Troyard just stares at him, a look of such complete astonishment on his face that Inaho really wonders if no-one has ever done this person the smallest and most natural sort of favour before.  
„But what about you, I mean-“

„I can head back home together with my sister“, Inaho interrupts, „Really, it‘s okay, take it, Troyard-san, I insist.“  
„Thank you.“ He says it in earnest and with another of his bows, and then slowly heads for the door. Before he leaves, he turns back with a smile. „I‘ll drop by as soon as possible to return this. And next time, please call me Slaine.“  
„Inaho“, he replies automatically as he watches the other leave, and realises that part of him wishes for this person really to return as soon as possible, and part of him wishes, for the good of Slaine himself, that there would never be a reason for him to set foot in this shop and to meet Inaho ever again. If this way of life had not swallowed him up yet, he deserves better.


	5. 紫苑 (Shion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Something about Slaine had intrigued him, and by now, he is aware that it is more his egotistical desire of not wanting the other's visits to stop that is hindering him from telling Slaine the truth than it is his adherence to the company‘s rules._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aster means _remembrance_ and _promise of never forgetting_.

The days pass, and Inaho finds with irritation and surprise that he will randomly look towards the door on middays now, as if some internal alarm clock had begun counting down the days until Slaine‘s return.  
„Are you sick or something?“, Inko had asked incredulously when Inaho had accepted their swapping of shift duty without any protests, even though never before he would have traded reconnaissance for counter duty.  
„No, there‘s just a job I want to see through to the end“, he had argued, effectively ending the topic, because no-one who would ever dare accuse him of not being dedicated to his tasks to a fault.

But during the calmest moments of this day when his mind runs out of tasks to solve and idles, like when he disassembles and cleans Yuki‘s weapon after her work hours and muscle memory replaces active thought, or just before falling asleep, he can feel that nagging certainty that he is lying to himself.

Something about Slaine had intrigued him, and by now, he is aware that it is more his egotistical desire of not wanting the other's visits to stop that is hindering him from telling Slaine the truth than it is his adherence to the company‘s rules. Inaho is the shop‘s most valuable asset, he probably could get away with almost everything, and yet, he had not told Slaine when he had had the chance during their last meeting, either.

And apart from waiting for the other‘s return, there is another reason for shifting to counter duty, even though with all the blood that is on his hands already, it seems ridiculous even to him to start drawing distinctions.

When the door bell rings again, then, Inaho hears it from the back of the shop where he had just started cleaning up after the chaotic group that had once gain left all tools and flower scraps scattered on the tables, just so he has something to do and is not sitting there completely useless, and by the time he has walked to the counter, Slaine is already standing leaning to it.

Inaho instantly notices how tired and exhausted the other looks, shadows beneath his eyes, and there are pieces of plaster and orange traces of iodine disinfectant on his face and also on his hands when he lifts up a small plastic shopping bag and Inaho‘s umbrella to place them both on the counter top.

„I‘m returning this, thank you very much once again, Inaho-san“, Slaine says with a smile, wincing slightly at the way it apparently pulls at one of the unbandaged cuts on his face.  
„Nevermind that, what happened to you?“  
Inaho feels his throat is constricted, and there is the icy feeling of dread welling up inside of him. He has a very good idea as to what must have happened to Slaine, but maybe there was just a bit of hope left that it had not been what he thought it was. 

„Aah“, Slaine begins, avoiding Inaho‘s eyes and staring down at his damaged hands slowly untying the shopping bag, „I told you about my late father‘s colleague who took me in as my guardian, if you remember.“  
Inaho nods, the notion now certainty, and if he was able to truly feel guilt, still, he knows that at this moment, he would be drowning in it.  
„He“, Slaine continues, and there is a weirdly hollow quality to his voice, not quite stricken with grief but also not as detached as he probably hopes it sounds, „he died in an accident the day before yesterday. I was close by when it happened, but got away with a few cuts from flying debris.“

„I am very sorry for your loss“, Inaho says automatically, voice tight with how much of a lie it all is, but if Slaine notices how fake it sounds, he does not show it as he lifts his eyes again and smiles at Inaho warily.  
„Thank you. He was very different from my father, but still, he was...“  
Slaine trails of, eyes vacant for a second, before shaking his head to refocus.

„It is just, everything seems to go wrong right now. Cruhteo, my guardian, was also a high-ranking member of the corporation, and with him dead and the founder fallen so terribly ill recently, I really don‘t know what is going to happen. It really feels as if we are cursed.“  
He is not smiling now, and Inaho wants to tell him that there are no curses, only human greed and calculation, but at the same time, he is not sure how it would make the other‘s situation any easier.

„What happens to you now?“ he asks instead.  
Slaine shrugs.  
„I‘m of age, so I don‘t need a legal guardian anymore. I got transferred to a new department within the office, and my new boss promised me to keep me there, no matter what happens.“  
„That‘s great“, Inaho lies, even though what he wants to say is _Leave this corporation and never turn to look back, all that awaits you further down this road is pain and loss._

„I‘m grateful, yes“, Slaine agrees, and turns his attention back to the bag that has been ignored so far between them pushes it slightly towards Inaho.  
„A small thank you for your kindness“, he explains, and Inaho leans in to see a package of chocolates, canned coffee, and a small booklet with word puzzles, rated _Expert Level_.  
„I thought you might use it when you‘re bored on duty here and there‘s no interesting customers around“, Slaine teases, and Inaho‘s stomach tightens.

„You didn‘t need to bring anything“, he mumbles, but Slaine just smiles.  
„And you didn‘t have to ask me in the other day, so we‘re even now. Which reminds me“, he interrupts himself and fishes out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, this time again in his own writing, „when I mentioned I was off to see someone at this flower shop here, my boss asked me if I could place an order for him while I was at it.“  
He slides the sheet over to Inaho, who accepts it with a nod, glad that they are back to grounds he is more sure of than gratitude and unwarranted kindness. 

Reading the instructions, however, Inaho feels his eyes narrow in disgust. Ordering a funeral flower tribute for a grave at the same store you commissioned to kill the person in the first place is simply poor taste, and not exactly an honourable way of dealing with these matters. Usually, their customers are the kind to adhere to a certain unwritten codex of rules, which is the only way this whole business could work in the first place, and give the shop and its employees the reassurance that their services will be treated accordingly.

„Understood“, he says nonetheless once he has finished copying the information on his form, „we‘ll get on it and send it directly to the funeral home in question for your boss to pick up and forward the bill to him, please just sign this order confirmation for me first.“  
„Thank you.“  
As Slaine picks up the pen to sign, Inaho notices that one of the plaster strips on his fingers has come loose, and before he can think about it, he asks: „Do you want me to fix that for you?“

„Huh?“, Slaine looks up, startled, and then follows the direction of Inaho‘s eyes. „Ah, that? You don‘t have to-“  
But Inaho has already turned to step back into the workroom and retrieve the first aid kit, and Slaine cedes his weak protests by the time Inaho has the necessary items laid out on the counter top.

„You need to have these things at hand in this business“, he explains while carefully removing the old plaster, dissolving the adhering agent with disinfectant first so that he would not hurt his patient, „with all the knives, scissors and thorns involved.“  
It is not a lie, after all, at least the first scenario.  
„I suppose“, Slaine says softly, and his hand is warm and relaxed under Inaho‘s practised administrations. 

„There you go“, Inaho comments as he cuts of the last piece of plaster, smoothing the edges down on Slaine‘s skin. His eyes get caught on the cuffs of Slaine‘s jacket, and he briefly wonders if the cuts he has seen are the only damage the other has sustained in the accident that in the end, Inaho is responsible for, even if it had just been a job he forwarded.  
„Thank you very much, Inaho-san.“  
As Slaine retracts his hand, his fingertips brush across Inaho‘s palm for just a split second, but something in his smile make Inaho think it is deliberate, and for the first time in long, he is completely unsure of how to react to something in his life.

„You don‘t need to thank me, for anything“, he manages, but Slaine shakes his head.  
„I do.“  
For a moment, they remain like that, silently looking at each other, and Inaho thinks of all the things that are unsaid between them, overshadowed by the ones that could destroy what he believes he might just have felt a second ago coming into being.

„I need to leave“, Slaine finally says, and it sounds almost confused, as if he had just woken up from being half asleep, „there‘s still a lot I need to take care of, even if I wasn‘t my guardian‘s next of kin.“  
„I understand“, Inaho replies, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that comes with the mention of a man whose name was undoubtably written on one of the files in the company‘s office, „I wish you all the best. And please do know that you can always drop by here, even if you have no order to place.“  
„I will.“

Slaine smiles at him before leaving, and Inaho decides that in the end, all humans are selfish and egotistical. And he himself most definitely is no exception to that rule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was delayed, but I'm currently very busy with work. Thank you all so much for your support!!


	6. 白百合 (Shirayuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In fact, he knows he is awaiting Slaine‘s next visit with a mixture of horror and excitement, for as much as he wants to see him, the logical part of his brain tells him that there is no scenario in which there will be a happy ending to their interactions, not with how they are positioned in what basically is a war amongst power hungry factions within that cursed corporation._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White Lily stands for _purity_ and _chastity_.

Stepping out into the street this morning, Inaho had felt the air was heavy with impending snow, steel grey clouds overhead in the pale light of dawn seeming to drown out the sounds of traffic a little already, and he had zipped up his jacket all the way to the top to ward of the cold he knew was not only coming from the outside.  
In fact, he knows he is awaiting Slaine‘s next visit with a mixture of horror and excitement, for as much as he wants to see him, the logical part of his brain tells him that there is no scenario in which there will be a happy ending to their interactions, not with how they are positioned in what basically is a war amongst power hungry factions within that cursed corporation.

When he crosses the street towards the shop, he sees that someone is already waiting at the closed door, and Inaho makes the last few metres in a jog.  
„I‘m sorry, I hope you didn‘t wait too long, we don‘t open before eight“, he explains, his breath forming white clouds in the air as he digs for the keys in his pocket.  
„It‘s fine“, the customer replies, a deep voice muffled by upturned collar of his black woollen coat that looks expensive enough to probably cost the entire sum of one of Inaho‘s mission‘s paychecks. 

Inaho wordlessly holds the door open for the man and goes to switch on the lights and heating system before walking back to the counter and taking a closer look at the other. He is a tall, smartly dressed and handsome middle-aged man who carries himself with such utter calm and self-assurance that he practically radiates power and influence, and Inaho immediately knows that he means trouble is incoming.  
„What can I do for you?“, he asks politely, and the man wordlessly retrieves a thick paper envelope from the inner pocket of his coat and pushes it across the counter slowly with hands clad in black leather gloves. 

„You will find all the necessary detail and the payment inside“, he says, and there is nothing hesitant about his order at all. He is the type who had dealt with business like this before, Inaho instantly knows.  
„Clean money, I assume?“, he asks more as a formality, and for a split second, the man looks offended, before his lips twist into a sardonic smile.  
„Of course“, he assures sweetly, and Inaho thinks to himself that he rather fights off multiple people in an honest shoot-out than deal with this kind of person for a reason.

„I do believe there are no more questions, then, I thank you for your cooperation“, the man continues with a nod towards Inaho that is obviously mocking, and then he turns to leave. Inaho is oddly relieved to see him go, even though the paper beneath his fingertips feels as if it is burning. He is weirdly afraid to open it, as if he could still change the content he dreads to be his worst fears realised in print by simply avoiding doing it, even though formally, he has already accepted the job the second he had invited the other person in.

Halfway towards the door, the stranger suddenly stops, however, and reaches out to the shelf with flowers put on display for customers to chose from, picking a single white lily. For a moment, he remains still, gently twirling the flower in his hands, and if Inaho had not seen the man just order someone‘s death so coldly, he would have thought of his expression as almost soft and fond.  
„Is it alright if I take this one with me, as well? This is a flower shop after all, right?“, he asks, and the smile is back on his face, only this time Inaho thinks the ironic undertone to it might be general bitterness. Everyone had their circumstances, and this shop‘s customers in particular, and it is not his position to judge. 

„Of course“, he simply agrees, and the man nod his thanks and walks out the door, the ringing of the bell barely registering in Inaho‘s mind as he stares at the envelope before taking one last deep breath and ripping it open.

 

Even if he tried, Inaho would not be able to give a detailed account of what had happened in the four and a half hours that passed after the man in the dark coat had left. Everything had gone by in a blur of adrenaline and his logical, hard-boiled professional side taking over.

There had been the phone call to the Captain and her response after a short unusual pause, _What a shame, someone so young_.

There had been him trying to busy himself, cleaning up the shop that hardly needed cleaning, replacing the one lily that had been taken as if he could retract the job he had taken that way, and long moments where he had just stared into nothing and berated himself for _caring_.

He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he only notices the other person‘s presence when a hand is suddenly waved in front of his face.  
„Inaho-san, are you okay?“  
Inaho snaps out of his catatonic state and stares at Slaine who is half leaning on the counter in close proximity, worry in his eyes.  
„I‘m okay, sorry“, Inaho replies slowly, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of sickness that overcomes him at the way the other smiles at him. 

„You had me worried there, with not reacting at all. Seems like I brought just the right thing, then“, Slaine goes on and places a coffee-to-go paper cup on the counter.  
„For me?“, Inaho asks perplexed, and Slaine smiles.  
„As thanks for your medical care“, he elaborates, and Inaho notes that most of the man‘s injuries seem to have healed already. „I‘m in a hurry and can‘t stay long or invite you for coffee somewhere since there‘s an event at the corporation tonight, but I definitely wanted to bring you something over at least.“

Inaho thinks his lungs must have stopped functioning, and he is dizzy with how much he wants to yell _No, you got it wrong, Slaine, don‘t thank me, you‘ll never forgive yourself if you thank me now._  
„It would not have been necessary“, he manages to reply instead, and he hears his own voice crack.  
„Neither would have been the things you did for me“, Slaine insists, and again, Inaho‘s destructive impulsive desire of telling him that what he truly has done is bring about death and destruction in Slaine‘s life remains reigned in.

„Thank you“, he brings out instead, thinking to himself that the smile he sees Slaine give him now probably will be the last one he will ever see. He remembers the way the other had acted at the mere mention of the girl during his first visits, and Inaho knows if there is one thing Slaine would never ever forgive, more so than the death of a disliked colleague or a stand-in parental figure, it will be hers.

„You‘re welcome.“  
Slaine checks his watch and huffs out a breath, obviously turning to leave, and it is on the spur of a moment that Inaho reaches out and catches the other‘s wrist before he can walk away.  
„... yes?“ Slaine stops, turning back to face Inaho with mild surprise and making no attempt to shake off the grip.

Inaho struggles with all the words on the tip of his tongue that he knows he cannot say, regretting ever letting all of this slip out of his control at some point he cannot even name. Maybe it had been the first time this person had crossed the threshold already, some dynamic of its own that is akin to a force of nature, unpredictable and as impossible to stop.  
„I“, he begins, not quite sure what he is even trying to accomplish, relinquishing his hold on the other‘s arm, combing his own hair back in obvious displacement activity.  
„Just be careful, Slaine.“

Slaine furrows his brow, but he must see something on Inaho‘s face that prevents him from asking just what he is supposed be careful about, and Inaho thinks for just a glimpse, something bordering on suspicion is mirrored in the other‘s eyes.  
„I will be“, he says slowly, taking a few steps backwards towards the door. „You, too, take care.“

Inaho only manages to nod as he watches Slaine close the door behind him and break into a run only a few steps down the street.  
It is too late to change anything now, and yet Inaho wishes for nothing more than to make it undone already, as no matter if Slaine will be careful with his own life or not, what is about to happen will most definitely be the end of whatever might have been there between them for so very little time.

There are many things you can talk about and forgive, to accept as someone else‘s flaws or mistakes, but even with all of his one boss‘s cynicism or his own pragmatic attitude Inaho is aware that murder, for most people, is not among these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wanted to have this finished before the final episode airs but eh, work ate me ( ˙ ᴗ ˙ )  
> Anyway, my favourite chapters upcoming next, I hope you'll enjoy them hhh


	7. 菫 (Sumire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _„It‘s alright“, he mumbles somewhere into the fabric of her shirt, and for a second, he thinks that if things could just stay like this, he could get rid of this feeling of misplaced empathy for someone who is little less than a stranger to him, that he could go back to his non-caring professional personality for good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violets stand for _honesty_.

„I‘m back“, Inaho calls into the the emptiness of the shop, and his voice sounds tired to his own ears. The snow falling heavily outside has caught in collar and hair, and in the warmth of the room, he feels the melting water make its way down his neck and collar bones as he begins taking off his coat and hat.  
„Welcome back“, Yuki replies, stepping out from behind the curtain, the usual worried expression on her face slowly giving way to relief when she sees her little brother unharmed. „Did everything go smoothly?“  
„Of course“, Inaho sighs, too tired to smile or try to pretend being upset about his sister still doubting his ability to do his job properly.

He walks over to where his sister holds the curtain open for him and steps into the preparation room, carefully laying his bag on one of the tables and retrieving the small gun case from within.  
One less cheating husband in this world, he thinks, walking over to the enforced steel safe that houses more than just the shop‘s cash and putting the case inside.  
„I used up three bullets“, he tells Yuki, who jots it down on the supply list with a frown.  
„That means we should order some of that caliber next time“, she sighs, stashing the list within the safe and locking it up again while Inaho goes to wash his hands in the sink in the corner of the room.

„What about the Dales team?“, he asks loudly over the splashing of the water, trying to look very busy with scrubbing the traces of gunpowder from where the gloves might not have protected them.  
„Hm? Ah, their assignment, right, you took the order for that one, right?“  
Yuki reappears from the kitchen and places a steaming cup of tea on the table next to him.  
„They left early this morning to prepare, but I don‘t know if they have reported back to the HQ yet, but I guess I‘ll find out soon.“

„Did they call for you?“  
Inaho looks towards his sister in surprise while turning off the faucet and towelling his hands. Yuki pulls a face.  
„Yes, Marito did, saying he needs assistance with a job. I don‘t know why he asks for me specifically.“  
„He trusts you“, Inaho replies with a small smile, „that‘s a good thing, Yuki-nee.“

„I suppose“, she admits, but he can easily tell she is actually pleased, and for the first time today, he feels as if the weight of anxiety that has been pressing on him for days now is lifted ever so slightly.  
„He said it was urgent, so I should come over as soon as I finished closing the shop, but seeing how-“  
„I‘ll do it.“ Inaho glances at the clock on the wall and shrugs. „It‘s only one hour until closing time, anyway, I can stay for that long, you go and help out at the HQ.“  
„Thank you, Nao-kun“, his sister exclaims, pulling him into a tight hug, apparently not caring that he is still dripping with melting snow.

„It‘s alright“, he mumbles somewhere into the fabric of her shirt, and for a second, he thinks that if things could just stay like this, he could get rid of this feeling of misplaced empathy for someone who is little less than a stranger to him, that he could go back to his non-caring professional personality for good.  
The moment passes as soon as he watches Yuki step out of the door into the dark of this winter evening, waving at him one last time, and then, he is alone again with nothing but his thoughts and too much time to pass until he will have confirmation of the job that had disturbed his usual calm having been completed.

It had been the first time ever since his earliest jobs that he had experienced trouble sleeping, much to his own annoyance, and he feels tired and exhausted as he begins cleaning up the shop in between drinking his tea and staring at the clock, the hands of which seem to not move forward at all.

He is just carrying some of the partly wilted exhibit arrangements into the preparation room for the girls to disassemble at the earliest convenience, when he suddenly hears the door to the shop being thrown up with such force that it bounces back immediately, the bell ringing an angry alarm.

„Excuse me, I‘ll be there in a second“, he exclaims with a frown in direction of the shop, putting the vase down onto the table, when he grows aware of the sound of steps rapidly advancing, and by the time he turns around, the curtain is already torn aside, and Inaho feels his heart skip a beat.

Slaine looks like he has seen hell, and Inaho does not doubt for a second that he in fact has. His eyes are tinged red from crying, and there is a searing intensity to them as he focusses them on Inaho, the lines of his face suddenly harder than Inaho remembers. He stands braced against the doorframe, breathing heavily, hair and clothes in disorder from obviously having run without stopping to this place, and instinctively, Inaho knows that the stage of pretending is over before the other even opens his mouth.

„Tell me it‘s not true“, he grits out, voice rough and breathless, and when Inaho does not reply instantly but remains frozen to the spot like a deer caught in the headlights, he repeats the order, screaming this time. „Tell me it‘s not true, tell me all of this hasn‘t happened, tell me this is just a bad dream-“

„Slaine“, Inaho finally manages, bringing his hands up in a placating gesture and taking a small step forward, and he hates how calm and collected his voice comes out, „Slaine, what happened?“  
„I- She was there and I-“  
Slaine‘s words are erratic as he takes two fast strides towards Inaho before coming to an abrupt halt, one hand clutching at his chest as if he had trouble breathing.  
„The police say it wasn‘t an accident, I don‘t understand, I was there and she-“

„Slaine, breathe“, Inaho begins, taking another tentative step towards the other and reaching out to touch his shoulder, ignoring the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to stop and immediately prepare for the worst. His fingers have barely brushed the material of the coat still coated by snowflakes when Slaine slaps his hand away in fury, eyes ablaze with the proof of Inaho‘s feared premonition.

„It started with you and this shop, all of it, didn‘t it“, he whispers in a low voice, and Inaho realises with a mixture of panic and detached bitter amusement at himself that he has forgotten everything he had been told about how to deal with these kind of situations, when the lies are beginning to fall apart and there is no more avoiding the ugly truths. He wonders if someone capable of true empathy might know how to react to such a challenge instinctively, know how to calm down someone driven mad with rage and grief, but he does not.  
„Slaine, I don‘t understand what happened, but please, calm down, I‘m sure-“

„I am calm!“ Slaine yells, and when he continues, there is a new quality to his voice Inaho has never heard before, hard and sharp, and the vague sense of dread that has haunted him ever since he had received that cursed envelope hits him with full force once more.  
„It all started here, the requests I forwarded and these people dying, it‘s no coincidence, is it, Inaho?“

„I don‘t know what you are thinking, Slaine, but this is not-“  
Even Inaho realises how hollow and ridiculous his lies come now, the smile on his face aggravating the situation more than helping.  
„What did you ask me to be careful about? Did you know? Did you know this would happen and not warn me?!“

Slaine steps in, grabbing Inaho‘s shoulder painfully hard, and he is now so close that Inaho can see the tears are still pooled in the corner of his eyes, feel the tension in his body and practically drown in the desperation Slaine has fallen into.  
The words come across his lips without him realising his grave mistake.  
„Slaine, I‘m sorry.“

Inaho spots the pair of stainless steel gardening scissors next to the vase on the table to his left from the corner of his eyes the same moment that Slaine dives for them with serpent-like swiftness, and he brings his hands up in defence just a tad bit too slow.

He can feel the sharp sting of pain as the metal digs into his skin, tearing its way up his cheek, and hears a strangled cry that he hardly recognises as his own as his fingers dig into Slaine‘s arm, trying to stop him from advancing and causing more damage, while his head seems to explode in a blur of panic and agony, blocking out all his combat training and fighting experience.

There is yelling coming from outside, too, suddenly, his own screams mixed with those of others, and he registers in the daze that is clouding his mind that someone drags him away from Slaine, his fingers losing their grip on his arm, and that someone is holding him close, their words washing over him as he realises that he cannot seem to see a thing, eyes shut in hurt and blood and something else. He tries to speak up, beg for something he does not even know in this moment what exactly it is, not sure if any words make it past the feeling something caught in his throat, blood or emotion, he cannot say.

And then, the world around him fades to black.


	8. 勿忘草 (Wasurenagusa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He clenches his fists, the sudden tensing of muscles unpleasant on the long red scratches running along his forearm. They do not run too deep, and will probably heal without leaving scars, but Slaine catches himself thinking that he hopes some visible traces will remain, to remind him of his own stupidity and of what he had lost, and also of that which he might have had, for a short time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forget-me-nots stand for _true love_ and _memory_.

As he watches the snow fall, slowly forming a smooth white blanket cast over the dimly lit grey streets and buildings, the cold of the early morning seeping into his bones, he distantly muses that it makes sense for his blood to reach ground temperature, as by all common logic, he should be dead by now.  
It is no longer only the suffocating feeling of grief and despair that first had pushed him into a seemingly endless dark abyss, certainly making him wish to die on the spot if that could make everything undone, only to change into red-hot fury and rage the second he had understood, but a very real and practical concern, too.

The bruises from where the man had grabbed him to drag him away from Inaho are still faintly visible on his shoulders and his throat, a fading shade of blueish purple, and he vividly remembers the cold steel of the gun pressed to his head. By all accounts, he should have been shot that night in the shop, or the day after, or the day after that. To a certain degree, he still expects a sudden untimely death at any moment, because if what he had seen that night and witnessed these past two months had been only the tip of the iceberg, then there is absolutely no reason for him to still be breathing.

His hands are white and shaking with cold now, but out of the corner of his eyes, he still sometimes thinks he sees red on them, can feel the warm liquid, and the memory of the smell alone is enough to make him sick. And then he remembers the screams. He clenches his fists, the sudden tensing of muscles unpleasant on the long red scratches running along his forearm. They do not run too deep, and will probably heal without leaving scars, but Slaine catches himself thinking that he hopes some visible traces will remain, to remind him of his own stupidity and of what he had lost, and also of that which he might have had, for a short time.

It is still more than two hours until the rise of the pale winter sun, and he had been wandering around the streets aimlessly for almost as long already. It is too early to show up at the workplace yet, especially as such behaviour would not suit his new position. The absurdity of his promotion in the face of what he had unwittingly assisted in, and what he had actively done, leaves a bitter aftertaste, but Slaine is not exactly surprised.

Even with all the words left unspoken and all the lies and charades, he had learned one thing from his time with Inaho, and that is being in possession of knowledge is what either kills you or keeps you alive and secure. The people of the Orbital Knights probably fear that he might be tempted to sell out the information he had on how exactly the death of the major executive and the company heiress had transpired, and just what is most likely the reason for the founder‘s fatal illness, and that alone is reason enough for them to protect him and try to keep him content.

Adding to that, his new boss had said he sees potential in him for being as ruthless and willing to step over corpses as his predecessors. Yet, Slaine knows he is only alive due to mercy of those involved in the business that was about blood and death, and not flowers. That is the part that confuses him the most, and he can only guess that it is because of his involvement with Inaho. Maybe the disastrous outcome of their business relationship had been seen as that person‘s fault as well as Slaine‘s by the superiors, or maybe they just did not want to deal with the Orbital Knights any longer, he would certainly not blame them for that. 

Stopping at a red light automatically, Slaine for the first time ever since leaving the house really pays attention to his surroundings again, and realises with a sudden surge of shock that without thinking, he has ended up in the district he had sought out so happily multiple times before his looking forward to meeting a certain person had ended in rage and blood. He wants to turn on his heels and go anywhere else, but it is as if his body is on autopilot, and he finds himself walking down familiar streets, hardly encountering any other person until he can see the low-rise building he has tried his best not to think about, to ban from his nightmares and daydreams alike.

All lights are out and the front room has been emptied and stripped of everything but the wooden counter and shelves, and approaching the door, he can see the sign taped to the glass door from the inside.  
_Indefinitely closed due to family incident. We sincerely apologise to our customers. The Deucalion team thanks you for years of continuous support.  
_ No further explanations, no phone number or anything, and Slaine finds himself trying the door handle regardless, half expecting that this sign, too, is a lie.

„It‘s closed, can‘t you read?“  
Slaine snaps his head around, prepared to face down a barrel, but instead his gaze falls onto a young woman, who despite the freezing cold wears cut-off jeans as if the glacial air is completely inexistent to her, and regards him with obvious disdain.  
„I must have overlooked the sign“, he says without even trying to sound convincing, and the woman clicks her tongue in annoyance, shoving her hands further into the pockets of her hooded jacket and retrieving a key.  
„Whatever.“  
She pushes Slaine out of the way with her shoulder as she walks up to the door and unlocks it.

„The tenants disappeared overnight, doesn‘t look like they‘re coming back. If you wanted to meet any of them, you can get lost, I doubt you‘ll find anything here“, she calls from over her shoulder as she steps inside, flicking on the lights.  
Slaine does not hesitate crossing the threshold this time, and ignoring the woman calling out „Hey, what do you even think you‘re doing?“, he walks over to the curtain that is still in place, pulling it aside in one swift movement.

The preparation room, too, has been cleared out entirely, and as his gaze immediately drops to the floor, he notices not a trace of blood is left, the air still rich with the smell of disinfectant and cleaning agent.  
„I‘m talking to you!“  
The woman grips down on his shoulder from behind and turns to slam him against the door frame with such practiced ease and force that he has no time to react before he already feels her hand against his throat. She might be shorter than him, but he has no doubts whatsoever that he would still lose to her in a fight, and it is when he looks down the length of her arm into her narrowed eyes that he understands.

„Where is he?“, he asks softly, giving in to her hold without struggling.  
She does not answer right away, but her grip loosens, slowly, until she drops her hand entirely.  
„You should leave“, she then grits out, stepping back, and Slaine‘s hand automatically comes up to his throat, wondering if this encounter, too, will leave marks.  
„Please tell me.“

She lurches forward again, grabbing his wrist painfully hard and dragging him towards the door, and Slaine finds himself stumbling along, an odd numbness clouding his thoughts.  
„ _Leave_ “, he can hear her say, voice pressed and trembling with withheld anger, „there‘s nothing for you left here, for any of you guys. Leave, don‘t turn back, and never try to contact us again. Go home.“

The woman pushes him out of the door and immediately locks it behind him, and for a few minutes, he remains exactly there, his back against the glass, and watches the snowflakes fall.  
There has been no answer in her words, he thinks, and even though he knows that now that he is heading down the path of his predecessors, having caused the death of one person or the other will no longer be something he has the luxury to ponder on, the fact that he does not know about Kaizuka Inaho feels like a metal weight around his neck, pulling him under. And suddenly, all he is is tired and awfully exhausted, days worth of sorrow crashing over him like a collapsing roof.

 _Go home_ , the woman had said, and Slaine turns to walk down the street towards the station. On the train, he quickly types a message to his assistant calling in sick for the day, because he can do that now, and he does not even bother to spell-check it as he stares out the dark windows that reflect more of his own face than they show the world outside.

The faintest traces of dawn are already bleeding into the sky when he finally rounds the corner of his apartment block, and climbing up the stairs suddenly feels like an olympic event. By the time he has reached the door to his flat, he thinks he could just collapse in the hallway and sleep for years, maybe forever, just to avoid waking up to an unchanged reality. He has already half turned the key in the lock when he spots from the corner of his eyes that something has been put on his door sill, a small item wrapped in brown paper.

It takes a moment for Slaine‘s brain to process the question of who, why, and when would have dropped something that did not look like the usual Konbini advertisement coupons in front of his door, but when he realises, he grows awake with sudden intensity once more. Then, he slowly bends to pick it up, even if a part of him insists it might be dangerous.

Ripping the paper open, he finds that is is a small, potted plant, still half blossoms and only half in bloom, and even in the artificial dimmed light of the hallway, he can see the gorgeous blue colour.  
For a second he wants to burst into laughter, the next he wants to smash the pot on the ground, but then again, the flower has done him no harm and is not the one he wants to strangle until it gives him answers, answers to questions he does not even have figured out yet.

Instead, he finally steps into his apartment and gently places the plant on the small kitchen counter. This room does not get a lot of sunlight, but his boss had already announced he would be moving into a more splendid place befitting his new position soon, so maybe it would be happier there. It is when Slaine is about to scrunch up the wrapping paper to throw it away that he notices the small slip of paper that had gotten caught in it.

He lets himself drop onto the chair as soon as he recognises the orderly, plain handwriting, and it takes a while until the words themselves make it past the sudden overwhelming feeling of endless relief, and anger, that it spurs in him, as he collapses onto the table, unable to cry or laugh, and sleep finally pulls him into a brief period of silence.

 

_Forget-me-nots (Myosotis). Please water generously and keep in a light place._

_I won‘t forget you, Slaine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me so far! This chapter, as you probably noticed, marks the beginning of the epilogues (yes, multiple) from a new perspective.  
> I know that I have no method of proving it, but trust me that the two chapters that are to follow were written and finished _before_ the season ended. So all similarities with actual events is not me shamelessly copying for once, but simply due to the fact that the Olimpos Knights and I seem to be awfully fond of the same tropes haah _(:3 」∠)


	9. 薔薇 (Bara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sudden recognition jolts through his entire body like a strong electric current, and Slaine snaps out of his half-dazed staring out of the window of the train instantly. For a second, there is nothing but the muffled sound of the wagon on the tracks and the cacophony of chatter of the people around him, and he tries to tell himself that it had just been an auditory hallucination, maybe, brought about by him being tired from a long day of work at their branch office, that it was nothing but a remnant of the memories that still haunt him to this day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preserved roses signify the _end of a relationship_ , blue roses promise the _achievement of the impossible_.

The sudden recognition jolts through his entire body like a strong electric current, and Slaine snaps out of his half-dazed staring out of the window of the train instantly. For a second, there is nothing but the muffled sound of the wagon on the tracks and the cacophony of chatter of the people around him, and he tries to tell himself that it had just been an auditory hallucination, maybe, brought about by him being tired from a long day of work at their branch office, that it was nothing but a remnant of the memories that still haunt him to this day.

„Yes, I heard you loud and clear. I‘ll get on it. Yes, I‘ll take care. You, too, Yuki-nee.“

Slaine feels his heartbeat accelerate. There is no mistaking it this time, the voice so fresh in his mind as if it had been hours since their separation and not years, and he slowly turns his head, trying to maintain composure as not to give himself away.

And true enough, only a few armlengths away from his seat, he can see the other man standing with his face to the opposite window amongst the other passengers, one hand holding on to the handlebar above, the other occupied with his phone. He still looks nothing other than a rather short, unremarkable young man amongst others, dressed in a commonplace white shirt with rolled up sleeves and dark trousers, keeping two plastic bags of groceries tucked between his legs. Slaine would not have noticed him, just one more office worker on his way home after a long day, if not for his voice, and now it takes all his effort to avert his eyes from the man. He knows that if he reacted rashly, he would blow every chance at-- and here his thoughts catch, because at what exactly, he does not know.

Confrontation on his terms, revenge, a conversation, payback, the turning back of time, maybe all of that and maybe nothing.

Instead of trying to delve deeper into his thoughts, Slaine takes a breath, sinks into his seat and lowers his head, pretending to be very interested in his own phone‘s screen flashing nothing more but the current time.

Train stops fly by, including the one he had been supposed to exit at, and every time Slaine dares to cast a short glance in Inaho‘s direction to check if he planned on disembarking. The other man seems busy with his phone and never looks anywhere else to Slaine‘s relief. It is after the slightly mechanical voice announces the next stop in one of the calmer residential areas that Slaine sees Inaho pocket his phone, scoop up his grocery bags and slowly head towards the exit. As naturally as possible, Slaine picks up his coat and squeezes past the other people on the wagon to follow his target by falling into step with the other passengers exiting at this stop, down the flight of stairs and out of the station into the dark of a pleasantly warm summer evening.

He keeps following the other man at a safe distance, but Kaizuka Inaho seems to be entirely at ease, not turning his head back a single time. As they are making their way from the train station through the masses of people on their way home, Slaine‘s thoughts are like erratic static noise in his head. A part of him wishes to run up to this person who seems so irritatingly calm, wrestle every bit of life out of him this time and just scream out all his anger and pain in the middle of the street. He could kill him, too, of that the familiar weight of the lightweight Beretta in his coat pocket assures him, and if he wants to avoid a public disturbance, all he has to do is follow Inaho until the area is less crowded. Or he could call his personal assistant to order Kaizuka Inaho‘s immediate assassination just like that, because now that the tables have turned, he has the power to have murder committed in his name without having to stain his hands with blood and gunpowder himself.

Busy with trying to calm his heartbeat and choosing the best way of proceeding, Slaine hardly notices that they have stepped out onto a small square with a playground and a few trees now, when suddenly Inaho stops in his tracks. Slaine comes to a halt a good few metres in distance, quickly surveying his surroundings and noticing that only a few teenagers are hanging out on the swings while the steady stream of pedestrians remains on the street they had just left. A few witnesses, but out of earshot, he realises in the same moment as Inaho turns around to face him.

„For how much longer do you intend to follow me, Slaine Troyard?“

Slaine can feel his fists clench in his pockets at hearing his name from this person‘s mouth again, said in such a casual fashion, too. In the dim light of the streetlights he can hardly make out the other man‘s features, and finds himself being grateful at the fact all of a sudden.

Inaho waits patiently, radiating nothing but mild interest, with not even a hint of fear of agitation in his posture, his hands still busy with the shopping bags instead of going for any weapon of defence.  
„So you noticed me following you“, Slaine says instead of the answer he does not have himself, and sees Inaho give a short huff.  
„Ever since the train, yes. But I was curious to see what you would do.“

Slaine feels his eyes narrow and his temper flare at the casual dismissal of his trailing skills, even more so as with all he has learned about Kaizuka Inaho after he had come to realise his true profession, all the talk and proof of his incredible talent for orchestrating assassinations, he is pretty sure that the other man is telling the truth about having realised from the very beginning.

„I‘m warning you“, Inaho continues, voice still even and matter-of-factly, „If you attempt to kill me, I will retaliate in kind. If you intend to send professionals of your side after me, feel free to do so, but know that I will defend myself. You have every right to hate me, but understand that I will not surrender without putting up a fight first, and I‘m confident of winning.“  
Slaine just stays quiet for a few heartbeats, wondering how it had happened that they had gone from talking about flowers and pretty white lies to earnestly discussing executions in public. When he speaks again, he hates how the words sound less threatening than tired.  
„I haven‘t decided yet on what to do.“

They stand in their respective spots for some time more like actors who had forgotten their lines and are desperately waiting for the prompter to help them out, until Inaho demonstratively lifts his bags.  
„In that case, I shall take my leave if you don‘t mind, because these are getting heavy.“  
Slaine opens his mouth to protest as he watches Inaho actually start walking a few steps further, but before he can settle on something to say, the other man stops again and speaks up without turning back.

„You can come along if you want.“

 

 

Slaine does not know why he had taken up the offer, in fact he feels as if he does not know anything at all anymore as he for the second time of the day trails Inaho, this time only a few steps behind him so that he still has a full view of the other‘s actions just in case Inaho might consider attacking a valid defence strategy. But the man shows no signs of doing so, simply walking down a few more blocks at his own pace in silence, never turning back to face his newfound shadow, until he finally speaks up again.  
„That‘s the house over there. I‘ll need to retrieve my keys from my pocket.“

Slaine feels himself flinch at the implicit assurance that Inaho would not draw a weapon at him right here and now, his own hand still resting on the now warmed-up steel in his pocket as he follows Inaho up the stairs to the second floor of an apartment complex where he puts down his bags to produce the key as announced and opens the door.  
„Make yourself at home“, he says, half over his shoulder, as he picks up the bags and enters the apartment.  
Slaine hesitates for a second more.  
„Sorry for intruding“, he then murmurs automatically, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him.

By the time he has taken off his shoes and coat, not before retrieving the gun from the latter, Inaho has already moved on to the small kitchen and begun storing his purchases away.  
„Please be seated. Do you want something to drink?“ Inaho asks from behind the fridge door as he hears Slaine approach, and again Slaine cannot help but feel upset at how easy it would be to pull the trigger now and at him yet being unable to do so.  
„Water, please“, he says instead, sitting down on one of the two plastic chairs at the small table, and taking a look around. The entire place looks clean and hardly lived in, the bed in the far off corner form the kitchen made, a small stack of clothes neatly folded at its foot. There are no personal objects in sight anywhere apart from a charm in form of a slip of paper pinned to the fridge, the words of which he cannot make out from where he is sitting, and a paperweight in form a blue rose cast in resin alongside a notepad on the table.

„There you go.“  
He is torn from his surveying the flat by Inaho placing a glass in front of him, not seeming in the least bit phased at the gun on the tabletop.  
It is when he automatically turns to face the other and thank him that he sees what he had subconsciously been trying not to even imagine in the bright light of the kitchen now clear as day, and Inaho does him the favour of staying still, leaning back on to the counter and calmly meeting his eyes.  
The scar running up from his left cheek to his temple looks faint and well-healed, hardly more than a thin white line, but it is his left eye that Slaine stares at. It is the same warm brown colour as the right one, but the sheen just a tad dimmer and the width of the pupil ever so slightly mismatched in the artificial light within the kitchen.

„Your eye“, he starts, his throat feeling suddenly constricted and the sentence fading out between them.  
„It‘s glass, yes“, Inaho picks it up for him, before turning back to the counter and pulling out a pot from the cupboard and filling it with water.  
„I know a good doctor who deals with injuries you can‘t show up at a general clinic with“, he continues over the splashing sound, „but even he couldn‘t fix the damage done to it, so it was better to remove it entirely in order to not risk infection.“

Slaine empties half of his glass in an attempt to get rid off the unpleasant feeling in his throat while watching Inaho put the pot on the stove and retrieve a cutting board and a knife that Slaine has little doubt the man could easily kill him with.  
„I‘m not sorry“, he finally tells Inaho, who only turns his head slightly and gives him the faintest trace of a smile.  
„I know“, he says simply, turning back and beginning to chop up ham.  
„It‘s an occupational hazard, I was doing my job and you were doing yours, it‘s as simple as that. I never had any plans for retribution against you.“

„It wasn‘t my job to kill people“, Slaine almost hisses, before adding in a bitter tone: „At least, it wasn‘t back then.“  
„I know, I‘ve been keeping an eye on your career“, Inaho replies deadpan and without any change of tone and Slaine wants to strangle him for actually having the nerve to deliver puns on the matter, in this situation to boot.  
„You‘re still working in that industry, then?“ he grits out instead.  
„It‘s not something you can quit that simply.“

Inaho puts the knife down, gets out a pan and pours the ham in it, all with an air of casual everyday routine surrounding him while he talks about his criminal background.  
„My superiors have always taken good care of me, and I excel at the profession, so once I had recovered, I thought I might as well keep going at it until I have the means to retire completely. I spent the first time somewhere else before returning to this city, as with that many inhabitants, I calculated the risk of meeting you of all people as fairly low. And yet, here we are.“

At this point, he turns toward Slaine again.  
„You wouldn‘t happen to be lactose intolerant, would you?“  
Slaine gapes at the other for a few seconds, before managing to get out a perplexed „What?“.  
„I don‘t plan on poisoning you“, Inaho assuages him, even though that thought had not even crossed Slaine‘s mind, „I just realised that if you were, I‘d have to improvise with this recipe here.“  
The absurdity of the situation causes Slaine to take a moment to realise what Inaho was suggesting.

„You expect me to stay for dinner?“ he asks incredulously, half-expecting the other to brush it off as a joke, even though from all he had experienced with that man in the past, that is even less than likely.  
„It‘s always too much for one person, anyway“, Inaho replies as if it was the most natural course of action to invite the person who had stabbed out your eye and had a gun pointed at you on the tabletop for dinner in your own apartment. „I have no-one to share with at the moment, and I assume you missed your dinner due to trailing me.“

Slaine considers protesting on grounds of this being utterly insane, but in all honesty he is hungry, even more so now that the first surge of adrenaline slowly ebbs away since the half-expected fight for life or death had not come to pass.  
„I‘m not“, he informs the other wearily and rubs his temples. Even with all of the time he had now worked as an executive in this cursed corporation of his, this is probably the craziest situation he had ever found himself in, he muses.

„Excellent“, Inaho says and turns back to drop a handful of spaghetti into the now boiling water and switching on the heat beneath the pan.  
For some time, Slaine just watches Inaho‘s back as that person calmly goes about mixing other ingredients, and in a weird way, he feels the most at ease that he has in a long time, the unexpected domesticity unfolding in front of him that his own splendid apartment in the city centre lacks bringing back memories from slightly better days, as does the other man, if he is being honest with himself.

„Does it still hurt?“  
Inaho pauses for a second at the unexpected question before continuing stirring in the pan.  
„Almost never, no. The biggest problem was relearning stereoscopic vision from experience, the first month or so I continuously kept on walking into things. Or people.“  
„Good thing you need only one eye to take aim with iron sights“, Slaine muses dryly, and this time Inaho is the one to look at him completely baffled for a moment before smiling.  
„I suppose, yes.“

A stretch of comfortable silence follows, and Slaine thinks that now that they are both on the same level of having killed, having lied, and having destroyed, they are closer to really being friends with mutual understanding than during all the days he had dropped by at the cursed Shinawara Flower Shop, mainly having done so because he had felt at ease with the clerk that was a source of calm and serene friendliness when his life at the corporation had still been hell. How much of that had been Inaho lying to him and how much his honest character, he cannot say looking back, but the way they fall into pace so easily now has him believe that whatever they had had in the past, it had been unmistakably there.

He is torn from his reverie when an alarm on Inaho‘s phone goes off and his host strains the pasta and moves on to adding the egg yolk into the prepared bowl and finally mixing everything throughly and splitting the food between two plates.  
„Here you go“, he says, putting one down in front of Slaine, casually pushing the gun aside with its edge, „I don‘t drink, so I can only offer you more water or some juice to go with it.“  
„Neither do I, so water is fine“, Slaine replies, realising just how hungry he actually is with the food right under his nose.  
Inaho wordlessly refills his glass and pours himself orange juice from the fridge before taking his seat.

„It‘s really good“, Slaine assesses after his first bite, and Inaho smiles in return.  
„I‘m glad you like it.“  
They finish their meal in silence, and by the time Slaine is done, he suddenly finds that he has finally decided on what to do.

„Inaho“, he starts slowly, looking at the other across the table, interlacing his fingers so that he is not even tempted to rest his hand anywhere near the gun still lying next to his water glass as a visual reminder that this not only an impromptu cooking session between close friends.  
„I only want to know one thing. Were you the one who killed her?“  
Inaho puts down his glass and meets Slaine‘s eyes calmly without blinking.  
„No. I passed on the order, but it wasn‘t me.“  
And as Slaine does not reply immediately, he continues in a tone that sounds unusually sceptical: „Does it make any difference to you?“  
„I don‘t know. Maybe.“

Inaho sighs softly.  
„I almost warned you on that day, you know. But in the end, it would have only meant me getting the organisation in trouble and you dying to protect someone from a force that was already beyond stopping at that point. I hold my own interests the dearest, so I didn‘t do it.“  
Slaine notes the complete absence of an apology with a huff.  
„Me getting killed by my superiors was a point of interest to you?“, he asks instead of commenting on it, but Inaho glosses over a direct reply.

„The only thing I can truly say I regret“, he starts, „is that we had to meet like that. I think under different circumstances, we could have gotten along fairly well.“  
„I‘m sitting in your kitchen and am talking to you, I think we actually are, considering everything that has happened.“  
Inaho lets out a breath that is almost a laugh but not quite.  
„That‘s one way of seeing it“, he agrees, before adding a bit more quietly: „I do miss those days sometimes, though, they had refreshing normality to them, even if it was a lie.“

„Considering you mentioned not liking the job at the shop all that much, you sure seem attached to it in retrospect“, Slaine observes, „and to the flowers, too - I assume you were the one sending the gift in late December to my apartment?“  
Inaho nods.  
„I intended it to both be a confirmation that I was still alive and not going to come after you and a final farewell“, he says with a shrug.  
„Well, I certainly didn‘t forget you, so you could say it was successful“, Slaine comments dryly, picking up the paperweight from the table and inspecting it more closely. Rather than a painted, the rose at the centre seemed to be one of the genetically modified blue types, at least in his amateur assessment.

„It was a parting and get-well-soon gift from my colleagues at the shop“, Inaho explains unprompted, „blue roses stand for-“  
„Miracles and achieving the impossible, I know“, Slaine interrupts. „Even with you gone, I brushed up on my flower language learnings, in my new position I should know when a bouquet means imminent death after all.“  
Inaho nods approvingly.  
„Sensible decision. If you ever have a specific question, feel free to ask me.“

In the pause that follows the silent understanding that this offer could only taken up by Slaine if both of them stay alive passes between them, and finally Slaine sets down the paperweight gently and picks up his gun instead. Inaho does not even flinch as he calmly watches his guest rise.  
„I think I should be going now“, Slaine says, regarding Inaho from above. „Thank you for the food.“  
Inaho simply shrugs, gets up as well, and follows his guest to the door.  
„I assume you‘re going to move out of here“, Slaine states more than he asks as he puts on his shoes.  
„Do I need to?“, Inaho asks in turn, obviously on the same page.  
Slaine straightens his back and lets his gaze travel along the small, spartan apartment again, until it comes to rest at its owner once more. The answer forms on his lips before he really knows it.  
„No. If you move again, I can‘t come back, after all.“

„Do you want to?“  
Slaine pauses with his hand already on the door handle and stares at the person who he had considered a friend, then his worst enemy, and now just one more person walking a blurry line between what society regarded as good and evil just as he is, someone, maybe the only one who truly understands. He has about as much reason to kill him as to keep him alive, but this seemingly easy to solve equation somehow no longer makes sense now that they have met again.

Instead of voicing an answer he does not understand himself, he turns and opens the door, stepping out onto the small corridor outside and for a moment just taking in the pleasant night air. He can feel Inaho look at him from the half-lit doorway of his apartment, and after a few seconds, he steps back to face the other person.  
„I think I do. I‘ll see you around, one way or the other.“  
It is hard to see against the light, but there is an expression on Inaho‘s face he cannot read.

„Until the meet again, Slaine.“

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to put in at least one Orenji and eggs reference each, I apologise. Also, note that this chapter was an addition that was made to the story as the second cour was already airing, hence the rose symbolism, even though the overall idea of an epilogue chapter with them meeting again has been floating around from the beginning. And as mentioned before, this chapter was written before episode 24, the eye-thing is just Olimpos Knights and me agreeing on it being A+ (☞ﾟ ∀ﾟ )☞  
> Final chapter coming up next, thank you so much for reading!


	10. 菖蒲 (Ayame)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _„An assassination attempt?“, Inaho asks, eyebrows raised, but he is not halting in his movements._   
>  _„Yes, a letter bomb addressed to me, ended up sending two of my office workers to the hospital today. Thank you, that‘s enough“, Slaine interrupts himself, and Inaho switches to pouring himself a coup of tea._   
>  _„Letter bombs are horribly inaccurate when you want to kill someone, that‘s downright irresponsible“, he criticises before taking a sip, and as usual, he is all professional pride about killing people, it is absurd._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iris stands for _good news_ and _loyalty_.

„An assassination attempt?“, Inaho asks, eyebrows raised, but he is not halting in his movements.  
„Yes, a letter bomb addressed to me, ended up sending two of my office workers to the hospital today. Thank you, that‘s enough“, Slaine interrupts himself, and Inaho switches to pouring himself a coup of tea.  
„Letter bombs are horribly inaccurate when you want to kill someone, that‘s downright irresponsible“, he criticises before taking a sip, and as usual, he is all professional pride about killing people, it is absurd.

„Well, good thing they are inaccurate, or else I wouldn‘t be sitting here, talking to you.“  
„Still, it‘s because you‘re too careless and lax with your security.“  
For a second, they are just glaring at each other over their respective cups, then Slaine sighs.  
„Be that as it may, you wouldn‘t happen to know anything about that, would you?“  
„The Deucalion team ceased taking any and all operations involving the Orbital Knights, you and your corporation are personae non grata“, Inaho replies matter-of-factly, „so I at least can guarantee it wasn‘t anyone from that group.“

„Good to know.“  
Slaine puts down his cup and lets his eyes wander around the small apartment. In the few months since he had first come here, hardly anything big had changed. Everything is still perfectly orderly and clean, but to a person who had visited often, the small differences are obvious. There is a photo pinned to the fridge now, showing an unlikely group of friends that looks so normal and harmless that it is hard to believe that everyone of them is involved in underworld business one way or the other, there is a brand of tea stocked in the kitchen that the apartment owner does not like, and most notably, there is a futon nicely folded up in the corner next to the bed.

„Given your position, the list of people who want you dead is fairly long, so that doesn‘t make it easy to guess“, he hears Inaho muse, and turns his head back towards him with a sarcastic smile on his lips.  
„Thank you so very much for reminding me.“  
Inaho does not have the decency to look even remotely guilty, he never has.  
„I‘m not only talking about enemies from the outside, you know, it might also be someone who wants to inherit your spot in the corporation by force.“  
The _It wouldn‘t be the first time, after all_ remains unspoken, but Slaine still understands.  
„The first candidate to look at would be your immediate successor.“

„I can and do trust Harklight with my life“, Slaine says vehemently, and somehow that seems to amuse Inaho.  
„He‘s the one who keeps on telling you you are stupid for coming back to see me, isn‘t he? Sounds like a smart man to me.“  
„You think I‘m stupid for being with you?“  
„Just as stupid as I am for not having turned on my heels and taken the first plane to Hong Kong to go dark the moment you showed up on my doorstep.“

„You know Cantonese?“, Slaine asks, only half surprised.  
„Enough to get by. The point is, neither of us did what would have been the wisest, and here we are.“  
Here they are, indeed, Slaine thinks. There is a million of reasons why it is a bad idea to date an assassin, nonetheless the one who you shared such a complicated history with, and there is a billion reasons why it should not work. But if he has learned one thing about Kaizuka Inaho in all this time they have spent together so far, it is that the other man has a tendency to defy all odds, somehow, and make things that seemed impossible reality.

It had not been more than three days when he had returned to the apartment back then, half expecting that despite his words and actions, there would be no trace left of Inaho, just as it had been with that cursed shop, but when he had still been deciding on whether to ring the bell or no, the door had opened, and Inaho had asked him inside.  
„I‘m glad you came“, he had simply said, and that had been the start.

Being with Inaho was the most relaxed Slaine had been in a long time. It was the safest place to be, he knew that much, and there were no secrets between them, no images and appearances to uphold. Slaine could spend hours just watching the other calmly go about his paper work in silence, or listen to unasked for rambles about how hollow-point bullets were affected by air currents differently from full-metal-jacket ones.  
And in between all of this and Inaho sometimes suddenly leaning over to kiss him in a way that contrasted his cool and detached words with gentleness and warmth, Slaine had realised that this was probably as normal as life for people who stepped over corpses to reach their aims got.

„Do you know what the best way to finding out who‘s after your life is?“  
Inaho‘s question snaps him out of his musings, and Slaine furrows his brow in thought.  
„You mean apart from investigating the modus operandi and the motives?“  
Inaho nods, and when he continues, it is with the calm and serene tone he uses for talking about both his latest shopping trip and his detailed history of assassination alike.  
„It‘s hiring someone to let themselves be hired to kill you.“

Slaine blinks, and when realisation hits, slowly says: „You‘re not suggesting what I think you‘re suggesting, are you?“  
„I don‘t think anyone would turn down my offer of working for them“, Inaho states flatly, and Slaine wants to slap him for focussing on all the wrong points, again.  
„Isn‘t it against your strange code of honour to sell out the person who hires you?“, he asks instead, noticing how his fingers have tightened around the cup handle.  
„Not if someone else hires me to do that in the first place“, Inaho explains in what Slaine knows is a chipper tone for him, „that would simply make it an undercover mission from the very beginning.“

„I thought Deucalion no longer works with Orbital Knights“, Slaine presses on with narrowed eyes, not quite sure if Inaho really is entirely serious. It is still hard to tell for him, sometimes.  
„Hire me in private, then. I charge people I like only half the price, and family is for free.“  
„Where would that put me, then?“  
Inaho tilts his head as if in thought.  
„Let‘s see“, he begins, and Slaine feels another hand brush past his, the touch instantly releasing his tension, „you could invite me for dinner in exchange.“

„That‘s a cheap price to hire such a renowned assassin as Kaizuka Inaho“, Slaine notes, and Inaho huffs while standing up to put his empty cup into the sink.  
„Consider it the benefit of knowing such a renowned assassin who likes you a lot“, he says while walking the two steps over to where Slaine is sitting, carefully reaching out to brush some of Slaine‘s hair back, his hand remaining at the back of his nape.  
Slaine simply hums in agreement, in turn grabbing hold of the collar of Inaho‘s shirt to pull him down to his level, and he can feel Inaho is smiling when their lips touch briefly before the other pulls back ever so slightly with a soft sigh.

„As much as I would love for you to stay, you should probably return, as I can say that with a likelihood of ninety-nine percent after today‘s events your assistant is already lurking around the house somewhere to make sure I don‘t kill you.“  
„You won‘t“, Slaine says, and it is as much order as it is his absolute belief.  
„I won‘t“, Inaho agrees, and his words are a breath brushing past Slaine‘s lips as he leans up to kiss Inaho again, and for a moment, nothing else exists.

When he is already by the door and buttoning up his jacket, Inaho calls out to him again, leaning against the wall and watching him intently.  
„One final question: Once I have identified the person responsible, how do you want me to proceed, Slaine?“  
„That‘s obvious, isn‘t it?“ Slaine replies, and it is so easy to say it now that it should scare him, but it does not, not as long as he is with Inaho who will not judge him either way. „Eliminate the threat.“  
„Understood.“

 

 

„I‘m against it, for the record.“  
„Yes, I noticed you are, you‘ve been saying it for days now, Harklight“, Slaine sighs, adjusting his tie one last time before turning slightly in front of the mirror to look at his assistant face-to-face. „However, as head of the corporation‘s branch office, public appearances are something I have to do, I can‘t hide in a hole for forever until this blows over, can I?“  
The deep-set frown on Harklight‘s face tells him clearly that this is exactly what the other wants him to do, and Slaine cannot help but laugh.

„I didn‘t get to where I‘m now by hiding, Harklight, and besides, I‘ve taken precautions, so I‘m certain I‘ll be perfectly fine giving a speech.“  
If anyhow possible, Harklight frowns even more when he asks: „These precautions wouldn‘t happen to have anything to do with Kaizuka, would they?“  
„Why do you ask?“ Slaine tries feigning surprise, but he can tell that the other is not believing a word, so he gives in a little. „Let‘s say it does, shouldn‘t that reassure you? That person has an impressive track record after all, no matter how much you may disapprove of him in general, you cannot argue with his results.“

„It‘s not that I don‘t _like_ him“, Harklight complains as he follows Slaine out of the changing room and towards the door leading to the large conference hall. „I simply worry for your safety, Slaine.“  
„I know“, Slaine says gently, and pats the other man‘s arm, „and trust me, I am very grateful for your support, but on this matter, trust me that we have a grip on it, please.“  
Harklight sighs deeply, and Slaine knows he has won.  
„I always trust you.“  
„Great. So then, let‘s go.“

Two years ago, Slaine would never have believed giving public speeches would ever be on the list of things he excels at, but once you had mastered lying to some people, it was hardly that difficult lying to many on a great scale, and what mattered the most were not even your words, but the way you presented yourself.  
As he is talking, his gaze travels across the crowd present, mostly high-ranking officials from the different branches. He can see some who are still visibly bitter about him having inherited the top spot once the dust had settled that the sudden violent passing of the entire older leading generation had stirred up, but also some who seem pleased with his performance.

„And because of that, even in and especially during the time of crisis, it is vital that we all stand together, because only united and in cooperation the different branches can unfold their true potential“, he hears himself declare, a studied speech that he hardly has to pay any real attention to, when from the corner of his eyes he notices someone in the first row on the left double over.  
„Therefore I-“, he continues slowly, and now more heads turn as the man starts coughing violently, and there is shouting now, _Someone call an ambulance, What is going on, Is he okay_ , and it takes just a second more for Slaine to realise what is going on.

„Harklight, call the paramedics at once“, he orders, crossing to the edge of the stage with two steps and jumping down, pushing his way to the person how lying on the floor where multiple others are trying to hold him down as he is shaken by violent seizures.  
„Let me through“, Slaine demands, and then he finally gets a clear view, kneeling down next to the victim.  
„Marylcian, can you hear me?“, he asks, reaching out to turn the other man‘s head slightly, the racing, shallow pulse a wild drumming rhythm beneath his fingertips. There is no more words left for Marylcian, though, but the look he gives Slaine is filled with absolute terror and disgust, and then it fades into standstill.

As Slaine gets up again and steps back, it feels as if he is underwater for a second, the commotion of people yelling and pushing and doors slamming washing over him as he takes in the realisation of what has happened. It comes with a feeling of relief and satisfaction, not loss, as he thinks that this means there is one less threat he has to worry about.

„That was a very inspiring speech, I‘m sad I didn‘t get to hear the end of it“, he suddenly hears a low voice say, and when he turns, there is an inconspicuous young man at his side, just one more face in a suit amongst many.  
„I‘m sure I have a written copy of it somewhere“, Slaine replies automatically, still half in trance, watching how now a team of paramedics comes rushing through the door to try to help where it is way too late.  
„You can lend it to me at some point, maybe“, Inaho muses, and for a while, they are just standing there, looking on how the professionals push away the masses to transfer the body onto a stretch.

„What even was that, neurotoxins?“, Slaine asks quietly, but Inaho does not move a muscle.  
„Trade secret“, he says, before turning towards the door.  
„I‘m going to leave now before they are going through the guest list in detail. While I do have an invitation, police is always a hassle to talk with.“  
„You sure picked a very public place to pull it off“, Slaine criticises, but Inaho looks almost offended from over his shoulder.  
„That is because this person demanded I kill you publicly for as many people as possible to see, so I thought I should return it in kind. You sure all have a flair for the dramatic, you people here.“

„Shut up“, Slaine says to Inaho‘s back now, still in a hushed voice as he sees the vice president approach him, yelling something that is drowned in the general commotion. He surely would have to work overtime a lot because of this incident, but that, too, is a small price to pay for a dead adversary.  
As he starts walking towards the other man, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the private one, not the one he uses for business.  
With an apologetic smile that he hopes passes as empathetic and worried about the death of someone he could not have cared for less he shouts a „I‘ll be right there“ towards Olga and unlocks the screen to read the new message.
    
    
    Come pick me up for dinner tomorrow at 1830 hours sharp. 

Before Slaine can type a complaint regarding the tone, the phone vibrates again.
    
    
    P.S.: Even if you are dramatic, I like you a lot.

 

„Out of all people, you just had to pick Kaizuka Inaho“, Slaine hears Harklight sigh, who had materialised at his side once more, looking even more exasperated as usual after no doubt wrestling a good deal of higher-ups into submission with polite insistence.  
Slaine laughs softly and pockets his phone without replying, because he knows it is not necessary.  
„It‘s a tricky thing, the way the universe works, don‘t expect it to make sense. In the end, yes, I do suppose out of all people, it had to be him. “

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me casually slap a third epilogue onto the story, but I couldn‘t resist the option. Anyway, this chapter marks the end, so thank all of you who‘ve stuck around from the beginning!


End file.
